


count to four and do it

by enlaurement24



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Secret Identity Fail, Sex Toys, it's plot hidden deeply into porn with a dash of crack, ocs that aren't that relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enlaurement24/pseuds/enlaurement24
Summary: Sure Phoebe said it's for a film project of some of her friends and it's nothing crazy, just easy money, practically no consequences, but he knew it was bullshit from the start. He'd responded 'what', then 'yes', then 'wait, like real porn?' and so completely buried himself in ten seconds flat.He gets up from the corner of the bed where he's been on his phone, passes his cup of milk tea (the sound from before?) to his left so that he can comfortably clap Eddy on the shoulder. He's short and Eddy sways under his hand, it's not even funny.(Questionable porn isn't romantic at all, but Eddy makes do.)
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	count to four and do it

This is fine. Well, not yet, but it will be fine. He might not have thought everything through but he'll make it. 

Probably. 

Eddy is _definitely_ not going to end up embarrassing himself naked, in front of semi professional people and like, an actual porn actor.

Eddy's cup of coffee is shaking in his hand. There's a dude sat at the table in front of him and he is the only thing keeping Eddy sane at the moment. He barely has enough brain capacity to force himself to watch that. It's lucky he seems to have his own approximation of a breakdown at least. If he isn't, Eddy doesn't know how to rationalize what's happening over there. He had walked in just as the guy was placing his order and the worryingly muted 'just put in there however many espresso shots you're allowed to give me please, thank you' brought him right back from his zone-out. It was thirteen shots. The girl at the counter lost color for a bit, but didn't argue. He really must be going through it. 

Every few seconds Eddy blinks himself out of his chair in the tiny coffee shop by the conservatorium straight underneath some tall, muscly, faceless, more-dick-than-human guy. Possibly hairy, with sharp teeth. 

The image superimposes over his surroundings, he can barely see the espresso dude staring blankly at him as he's taking out from his backpack a can of Red Bull and a huge cup that looks more like a duck-shaped bowl used for cereal. Eddy is seconds away from dissociating. 

Holy shit, he's mixing them, the coffee and the energy drink. His anxiety spikes. 

How the fuck did it ever cross Eddy's mind that filming porn is a good idea? 

Sure Phoebe said it's for a film project of some of her friends and it's nothing crazy, just easy money, practically no consequences, but he knew it was bullshit from the start. He'd responded 'what', then 'yes', then 'wait, like real porn?' and so completely buried himself in ten seconds flat. She'd sounded so light when she called to tell him that they'd found a professional actor to help, like it wasn't the first time Eddy heard anything about this being gay porn. 

_You don't have to worry, he'll take care of you_. Goddammit.

The guy mouths something quietly and it takes a few beats for Eddy to process. It's not exactly aimed at him anyway, not with the way they're both looking through each other, but 'alright here we go' followed by polishing off half that hellish cup almost sends Eddy into fits.

He could go back, say he changed his mind, Phoebe would understand. Except he's curious, and it trumps his panic. She'd said the subject is _equal want_. He's never gone far from his friend circle at the con, they're supportive, he cares for everyone, but hell, the need to practice has bent them all backwards. Film majors always looked like fun and these are the stranger sort if their project is basically porn, even with that corny motif. Eddy's alright with his body nowadays and he's been once with a girl who made him comfortable enough to try out butt stuff. It wasn't spectacular, but nothing to cry over either. He doesn't find guys especially attractive but he has eyes, he can appreciate objectively. It's just sex, it doesn't have to be that much of a big deal. 

And dammit, but he'd cleaned up his bum, he doesn't want all that effort wasted. 

How bad could it go.

Espresso Man finishes his evil juice and he seems to melt into a puddle, tension gone, eyes slightly more focused. Eddy looks away now that he's properly seen, tries not to feel betrayed at having lost his freak-out buddy.

It's better to just get it done and over with. Maybe it will help with his shaky bow, put it into perspective. He's spiraling. He physically can't move to get up. His stomach is doing a full dance routine and his sight checks out before he can get a grip on himself. Eddy is not going to fucking cry over this in public, no way, he refuses. It's the thought of being filmed that wraps his mind, breaks through any attempt at control. He'll look like an oversized muppet. 

Count to four and do it. It's alright. 

His coffee goes cold as he counts to four about seven times, gently hyperventilating between. Eventually he manages to make his way out even with his vision blurred and colored incorrectly, too purple. He's a mess but he pushes through it. 

***

Walking does him good, the ten minutes it takes to get to the address and it turns out to be a studio apartment kind of situation, clean looking and not at all dubious. He can do this, he might be shy but sometimes it works in his favour anyway, no need to put up a strong front. 

Phoebe's friend picks him up in front of the building, introduces herself as Eve, outright laughs at his shaking wet hands and launches into explaining their project. It mostly goes over Eddy's head with how his heart tumbles in his chest. It's encouraging to hear that their footage will only be a quarter of the whole thing and then he tips into full panic when she explains they'll have to mirror the other pairs while still being different and it's going to involve _toys_ and she's aiming to make it look like a _dialogue_ more than anything, whatever that even means.

There's a half-sound like someone snorting into liquid and possibly choking on it when he steps inside, and she slides him a pink pair of house flippers. It matches what the other three people in the room have on their feet. Hers are baby blue. 

One. Eddy decides he likes the other director more from the tiny wave he receives, plus the five solid seconds of reassuring eye contact. He looks up from editing, by the sounds coming from his laptop, long enough to shoot Eddy a toothy grin, a short 'hi, I'm Adam, don't let Eve bully you' and everything gets just a little more close to normal. 

Two. The cameraman is a mousy short girl named Charlie. She partially ignores him, keeps glancing at Eve desperately. Eddy could swear he hears her mumble 'I don't wanna do this' but he has no empathy to spare right now, not when... well, of course it'd be him. 

Three. It's Espresso Man. 

Eddy's walked by his mom watching korean dramas enough to recognize when he's in the midst of one. He so doesn't want to think of her right now. 

He doesn't even try to lie to himself, the dude's thigh flashes with his movements and right, he's naked under his bathrobe. He gets up from the corner of the bed where he's been on his phone, passes his cup of milk tea (the sound from before?) to his left so that he can comfortably clap Eddy on the shoulder. He's short and Eddy sways under his hand, it's not even funny. 

'Hi man, call me Beck. Twenty-three, bi, boba enthusiast, dumber than I look, if it helps any. It'll be fun, yeah?' His face is doing something weird, acrobatics level, like he's sucking his cheeks in against laughter while also squaring himself to appear bigger, some sort of uncertainty there clear. His eyes are somehow off as well but Eddy hasn't said anything for an awkward amount of time already so he forces out his own name, doesn't ask any dumb shit like 'hey how haven't you gone into arrhythmia yet?' 

He changes into his own bathrobe on autopilot, listens to Eve's directives with an acute need to pop his ears, tries to ignore _the goddamn double headed dildo that materializes from thin air_. It's pink, the aesthetic kind, and sort of see through.

And it turns out, too short. 

Eddy's grit his teeth, survived through the bone crushing embarrassment of prepping himself with Beck's unwanted, ultimately useful advice and his critical stare and the ton of lube he dumped over Eddy's fingers like it was candy he'd been giving out. Impressive really, the depth and accuracy of his instructions while he did the same thing, one knee on the edge of the bed. He'd almost looked bored, focused only outward. Shameless.

It got easier, once he'd said 'dude, they're not watching, Eve's been raging about camera angles for the last ten minutes. Come here, let me just-', his hands flailing uncoordinated into grabby motions in front of his face.

He'd hopped to the bathroom, returned smelling of rubbing alcohol, reapplied what looked like half the bottle of lube. He didn't have to. Eddy's first instinct to refuse stood no chance, not with how Beck had tugged on his sleeve, positioned himself so he'd block the others' view of Eddy further, fussy warm fingers on his ankle, resting there to nudge his legs open. Nothing of him fits into the pornstar image at all, his body too small, his hands edging on girly, clean and careful. Eddy wants to say musician hands, but he knows better. 

If spontaneous combustion was ever a thing, Eddy would have probably caught on fire from how babied he had felt.

It had been fine, Beck was generally weird but patient, soft spoken, his calm smoothing out the strangeness of the situation, just count to four and-

And then Eddy had figured out what was wrong with his eyes, the bluish contour around his irises. Contact lens. Just in time for him to almost pass out from the too full, too insistent sensation of Beck curling his fingers inside him, right into _something, whoa_. The pressure didn't let up at all throughout his involuntary spasming and the only thing his brain could come up with was _over tightened bow_. 

Eddy's suffered through biting his gross hand in his panic, through Beck laughing in his bent elbow, through 'ah fuck, sorry bro, say hello to your prostate'. Getting hard from it during the impromptu anatomy lesson (how did he just talk about that with his arm elbow deep inside Eddy), all of that for the stupid dildo thing to be too fucking short for this one position Eve was just so bent on.

Eddy's on his back, no surprise there really, holding his knees as close as he can to his chest, trying not to look up at Charlie leaning over his head with the camera to get a better shot at their dicks. Or the other stuff maybe, Eddy isn't sure what they're going for anymore and he can't focus with the irritation from Beck's hand at his knee sinking into his skin.

All three of them are uncomfortable as fuck.

Eve had denied Beck's request for a pillow under Eddy's hips to bring his ass up out of stubborn art concept, 'no props, nothing on the bed, just you two'. It had been funny then, the way he had turned to Eddy with _are you seeing this shit as well_ plastered on his face, but it turned sour instantly when they'd figured the gymnastics needed for it.

Eddy's pretty much hiding behind his bent knees at this point. Beck is still edging on hot, somewhat literally as well, his sweat slowly pooling above his collarbones. His face reads pissed off clearly, struggling to keep the dumb toy inside himself while pushing at Eddy's heavier legs to angle correctly, while getting the other end in Eddy's ass without fumbling. Thankful for thorough prepping doesn't cover it. He's folded like a pretzel, Beck in a supremely unsexy crouch over him and it still doesn't work.

It slips out at the first change in pressure, just as Beck slid Eddy's calf over his shoulder for easy support, the beginning of a grin on his mouth. He reacts quickly, catches the cursed contraception before the rebound can hurt Eddy, and Charlie rounds on Eve with furious justice, her swearing surprisingly descriptive. 

Beck collapses on his side next to Eddy with all the grace of a whale jumping out of water. He's wheezing. Eddy steals a quick glance at the girls before turning to him entirely. What comes out of his mouth ends up being far from what he meant it to be, whispered out of solidarity. He'd thought Beck would have better effort resistance, but Eddy's pretty much just lain down for all of this, he can't know the strain of all that manoeuvring. 

'You think she's into Eve?' 

'I think everyone is a bit into Eve, but it's not cool to be guessing at people's sexual preferences dude.' He's still giggling hysterically, rubbing his face into the crinkled sheet to cool down, the volume of his voice dipping. Now that Eddy's looking, Beck's body is so unlikely. Soft in places, the tiniest hint of muscles underneath, his stuttering breathing making him look like a tiny animal. Eddy's never seen men in professional porn with that much hair on their legs, and surely not with tan lines so obvious. 

'She's ridiculous, the girl pair did it because anatomy allowed them. But like, at the same time, we're losing against the dildo.'

Beck perks up at that. There's a flash of teeth, perfectly white and a little canine, his thick eyebrows going up in a challenge. 'You trust me? We only need a good angle for a minute or so. I have an idea, though it's uh, kinda athletic?' 

'As long as it's not gonna hit me in the face or break my ass, I'm in.' 

Beck cracks up harder, so Eddy's left with receiving Eve's apology and with calming Charlie down for another try, on the floor for better stability. 

It sounds smart in theory, for Eddy to lift his hips off the carpet himself and remain propped only on his shoulder blades so that Beck can just sort of... dive in. 

It occurs to him that maybe he should question this, but he's so pumped up that his nerves are wished right out of existence.

Even Adam takes a break from his editing, actually watching them for this one. Eddy can't tell whether he's on board with Eve's crazy demands or if he'd let himself get trampled over out of friendship, love, whatever they have. He catches 'comedy sketch' from one of them and he isn't sure which. 

Eddy tries out the half roll a few times to find his centre of balance, it's easy enough if only he could ignore Beck's wincing at how his neck bends. He's right, he can't breathe the way he should, it'll probably be worse once he'll be stretched around the toy. He's so not into breath play. Eddy looks at Beck and sees his own commitment reflected. He's sure they're still hard out of stubbornness alone. 

Beck and Eddy vs. dildo, second take. 

It goes interestingly.

They film Beck pushing him into position first, with unnecessary squeezing so it would look like he's putting force into it. He doesn't, too afraid he'll tilt Eddy wrong. 

The transition is visible, and disconcerting, Eddy can't reconcile his light touch with how he moves now, possessive aggression and hunched posture and mouth twisting into something filthy, want rolling off him in waves. Eddy knows he can't possibly look nice at the moment, his fake double chin bracketed by his knees nothing to swoon over. Charlie sure agrees, because she's down at his side filming Beck's show of dominance from an upwards angle. 

It's like a switch. One moment slutty Beck, licking a wet stripe on the back of his thigh, the next, Beck easing him out of position and jumping up and down with excess excitement to work himself up for their modified wrestling move. Slightly worrying. He keeps shaking out his hands and wetting his lips nervously, pushes his sweaty fringe away until it looks like a nest. 

Eddy can't tear his eyes away and he sees Charlie getting sucked into Beck's charm as well. It's different when he puts the toy inside himself, nothing hesitant, but pliant as he arches into it, his face open, listening closely to Eve's directions. Eddy thinks it might be that willingness to bend that makes his stomach go to mush rather than the fake obedience. 

For a second before it all goes to shit, Eddy lets himself smile honestly at Beck's breathy 'here we go', answers 'once more with feeling' quietly.

1, 2, 3, 4 and-

It's insanely, stupid good for a hot moment when he feels blunt nails stretching his ass and he opens easy for that pink dumb dildo, gets chocked up at the depth and the force and at his prostate screaming, drowning everything out. Not the most flattering position, but they must make up for it in genuine frenzy alone.

Eddy isn't sure who does it first, who pushes harder than the other one can take, he'll admit to rocking his bum up reflexively, but it's certainly Beck's knees that give out with the movement. 

He tips forward, grabs Eddy's ankles with an _ooooop_ as he goes and they _barrel roll a full 360°, honest to every god_.

The dildo flies sort of sideways and lands with a wet _smack_ by Eddy's left ear.

It's so quiet after, he can hear Beck's heartbeats.

'Holy _fuck_ , I was joking about getting hit in the face.'

Beck crumbles above him, leans his weight onto Eddy's legs, wrapped over his shoulders. For a few horrible, horrible seconds Eddy's laughter refuses to come out of him, trapped somewhere in his stomach, his face burning tomato red with too much pressure but no relief, and he has to arch off the floor, to squeeze Beck's neck between his thighs. It makes him shriek, off brand ticklish, and his horsey giggles trigger Eddy as well. He laughs himself stupid, tears streaming down his cheeks. He thinks he might be able to stop, but then he notices Adam wheezing painfully, chocking on his snorts and it sets them off again.

Eddy can vaguely hear Eve having a meltdown in the background and Beck hissing out broken variations of 'are you alright' while he checks him over with polite hands. 

They end up taking a break for Eve to go scream into the void and for Beck to pull Eddy back together again.

Just like in concert, once they fuck up this impressively, it all goes perfectly smooth from there.

Eve is admittedly an annoying little hag, but she might have been onto something to force it out of them. She comes to watch their botched footage just as Beck is popping Eddy's back, kiddie style with their arms linked. It's nice after that level of contortion, he's glad to have at least put on his boxers, and he can tell that Beck is on the edge of competition, with how hard he tries to get Eddy's feet off the floor despite their height difference. 

From the corner of his eye, Eddy catches the girls whisper excitedly over something they'd filmed, he can't imagine what, and then Eve is back on her feet with renewed energy. She asks to shoot the foreplay scene, but gives them no pointers, basically anything on the table. Charlie takes pity, tells them she only needs their top half before she gets a chair to stand on for comfortable camera height. 

After everything, after having his anxiety exorcised out of him, Eddy is suddenly nervous, source unknown.

If he thinks too long, Beck is weird as fuck for a porn actor. His face only comes up to Eddy's chin and he's street tanned, the lines stopping right underneath the curve of his shoulders, and while he has better proportions than Eddy, that natural triangle shape, the right ratio, a fairly wide chest, he's still soft around the middle, the hint of love handles above the waistband of his undies. 

Which yeah, ok, is kind of nice by Eddy's standards, but it isn't a general thing.

And he's a little shit, he'd rubbed his furry calf on Eddy just to make him squirm, and he has moles in the most random places and his dick isn't that impressive anyway and yet.

And yet when he comes in close to Eddy, he can taste that sly grin right off his face. There's a spot to the right side of his lower lip chewed to bleeding, it burns even with his entire mouth flushed, and a speck in his left eye that makes Eddy want to play something stupid, El Jarabe Tapatío maybe.

'We go slow so you can figure what does or doesn't work for you, yeah? I have no hard limits, don't be shy now bro', he says, barely cues him with his chin and Eddy goes easy, leans down into his waiting kiss. 

It's just that, kissing, but the knot in his belly loosens in no time at all, tension draining out of his frame. He worries it might be the opposite of what Eve wants, worries he looks like a sack of shit next to Beck. Hard fingertips ghost over his own, pull away with a jolt, return to tangle with his sweaty palms to raise them in uneven circles and he forgets, the feel of those small hands in his, the contour of veins in his wrists, so much control flowing through. 

Eddy breaks away, draws to his full height, brings his arms over Beck's shoulders, slowly makes his way lower, until there's no space between them at all, until he can sink his nails into the soft at the top of his ass, until his thumbs fit into back dimples just right. He feels Beck's right arm curl all the way around him, fingers reaching easily into the hollow of his hip, demanding, and he's overcome with pride of some sort.

It isn't much, though Eve seems to be vibrating out of her skin once she yells cut unnecessarily and they come off it. Eddy realizes how wet it had been only when Beck pulls away with a squishy pop and they both make a face.

Of course she goes right back into slave driver mode, because sure, they've practically wasted close to two hours filming anything but porn. Eddy could cry with relief at how Adam raises his eyebrows at the two of them, subtle subtext of it's good, I got you.

'Eve, on all fours, butt to butt? It worked best with everyone else as well, I think we have enough variety as it is.' It's a question, but not exactly, not with the way she mellows out and heeds immediately.

Compared to the injury prone workout from before, having sex with Beck like this feels almost _nice_ , if not for Charlie's drilling commentary on rhythm and how they should sound and 'no, Eddy, please don't flex your foot like that, we're not going for the fetish angle.'

Eddy would very much like to ask why they're fucking a double headed dildo if not for fetish, but he has a soft spot for her as he suspects she's mostly bored. He's pretty much over it as well, he gets the _equal want_ thing now that his every move translates into rebound from Beck, every right twist and every wrong push as well, he understands the appeal but he isn't going to come from this. He feels removed from it. 

Beck slams into him in a way that totally implies he's going to make Eddy beg, so he clenches his jaw, doesn't move one inch forward and looks back over his shoulder just in time to see Beck's arms give out from under him. 

He falls face first, doesn't even try to right himself, more or less screams into the bed, horror movie noises, nowhere near sexy, all too real for once. 

It doesn't take long for Eddy to figure out he's hit a nerve and he keeps that newfound angle, keeps hitting that same spot inside Beck as he reaches across, taps his bent elbow to give him something to focus on.

The position doesn't do _him_ any favours, borders on painful for the most part, but it's worth it when wet fingers squeeze his. They must've been in Beck's mouth before. 

Beck picks up his face to look back at him properly and he doesn't owe Eddy anything, yet Eddy would drop to his knees in a heartbeat if only to call Beck his for now and for later, for years until he turns to dust. 

_What the actual fuck, that's scary_. It's scary and Eddy is turning into some freak, dumb, dumb wanker biting the ground over a person doing a gig. Beck didn't even ask to get paid for it. 

He just wants this to be over. 

When Eve says 'yes! That's it, we're done!', Eddy flies into the bathroom, almost doesn't make it on jelly knees and he has to hear Beck's involuntary 'what, no, we could've-' before he controls himself, his jaw closing with a click. 

Eddy doesn't know what they could've done and he doesn't want to either. 

He showers in record time, not exactly because Beck had been really into it and it's probably uncomfortable for him to be out there the longer Eddy takes. He doesn't have that problem, too sad to keep a boner, so he hurries through wiping himself off and his shirt ends up sticking to him awkwardly when he comes out, bag already over his shoulder.

He makes a beeline for Eve to say 'goodbye, let's never do this again, I hope you get a good score on this at least', surprised that he's so good at ignoring his periphery that he doesn't even see Beck anywhere at all. Charlie is already gone, but Adam looks at him funny, like he's swallowing too many words, passes him a piece of paper with a phone number on it. Eve only hugs him and doesn't offer to see him to the door. 

Of course he gets cornered there, one foot in his shoe, the other bare. Beck can't seem to look him in the eye, hunched over and shifty. His agitated, whispered rambling makes everything worse. 

'Look dude, I didn't expect you to, uh, well... it's my fault anyway, doing impulsive shit like this and I almost got your teeth broken as well with that pink crap, fuck I'm still so so so sorry I can't-', he takes a deep breath, his accent deepens ever so, faster, until all Eddy hears is _imnotapornstaritwasadare_. 

'What.' 

'It's Brett actually. Brett Yang.'

It feels like they're on the cusp of something, but that something might just be punching someone Eddy's had gay sex with for the first time. 

'Did you just say you did this on a dare? Are you actually serious?' 

_Brett_ is wringing his hands in distress, but at least now he's making eye contact hoping it'll curb Eddy's anger. They've gone well into irritated whispering at this point, which could arguably be loud enough to fit into the whole room. 

'Yeah? It sounds dumb, but they pretty much only cared that my blood and urine tests were clean. I just sent them like, five half naked photos, I think Eve was just happy that she'd get professional help for free becau-' 

It's inevitable, really, when a baby blue flipper comes flying at Brett's head. 'Oh my god, I'm not that stupid! Who do you think you are, huh? Just apologise to him before he punches you!' 

Eddy can't take this. He's hops out the door on one foot, slips his other foot onto his shoe as he goes. Doesn't need to count for this mess. 

By the time he gets home he figures that the part that hurts him most is that Brett didn't even bother to choose a good name for himself, just went with the pronunciation of a two year old. He's sure it's Brett's number on that piece of paper Adam gave him and barely holds back from burning it over the sink. 

He's stupid, fair, but he despises going into dramatics. 

He practices. It does and doesn't help, because it reminds him how hard those fingertips had been. 

Sometime later he receives a text from the violist he's been arranging a quartet with, asking if he's still up for rehearsal since he'd finally talked to a violinist and a cellist open to help them. It clicks in Eddy's head, but really, he might as well be cursed if Brett is either of those two. Having nice, playing appropriate hands doesn't mean anything if you're an asshole. 

Eddy sleeps, barely, closes his eyes and opens them with the feeling of something hanging over his head. 

***

It's Brett. 

Brett's the violinist and Eddy will murder at least one person. He's out the door before he can process. 

'I'll be second violin, please.'

Eddy stops, rounds on him, so, so angry. How dare he. It has nothing to do with the desperation dripping out of Brett's skin. 

'I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I didn't mean for that to happen, but I didn't lie, you know. Pinky promise I'm not stalking you.' 

And then, because Eddy likes to make him bend. 

'I'll go if you want me to.' 

There. Good. 

'I don't like being lied to.' 

Eddy comes to him, open, checks a few times sneakily if they're alone in the hallway, and kisses his temple. Brett doesn't flinch, doesn't lean into it either, red to the tips of his ears.

'I won't lie, not even when your playing is shit.'

'I'm counting on that.' 

When they try to go back through the door, Eddy's certain Brett would pull back to let him in first. He doesn't, digs his bony shoulder into Eddy's ribs. It's different, promise and apology at once.

Eddy doesn't find guys attractive, but he looks to his left and there's the newness of getting to know someone, the trust to have been held, Brett's playing weaving in and out of his, making whole. 

They both receive a mail containing the film at some point and Eddy wonders what possessed him not to notice Brett's violin hickey at the time. It's hard to remember, Brett's hands had been the same and it all bleeds together, countless touches after and before and forever.

**Author's Note:**

> ughhh, right, i'm not the happiest with this. it's miles off what i usually do. the thing is, somewhere on pornhub, there's a video of a behind the scenes with two girls legit doing that barrel roll and laughing their ugliest laughter, genuine enough to make me cry at 3 in the night from like, feelings. 
> 
> it snowballed from there and it ended up as this gratuitous thing, but i liked a few lines in it so i decided to go through and post it. i considered putting it up under a pseud, though i might as well own up to it. it doesn't sound like them anyway.
> 
> if i haven't managed to turn you off yet, i hope you enjoyed the variety?


End file.
